


On A Stranger's Day - Part Two

by SanSanFanFan



Series: The On A.... Day SanSan Smut Series [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Darker Fluff, F/F, F/M, Halloween, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanSanFanFan/pseuds/SanSanFanFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a Stranger's Day the lowly can be raised up, and the high can come crashing down...</p><p>Second part of 'On A Stranger's Day'</p><p>Non-chronological, Sansa aged up... smut and fluff for Halloween/Stranger's Day  ;D</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Stranger's Day - Part Two

There was a small puddle of drool forming around his mouth and as he breathed bubbles were born and died in it. Had she really once daydreamed about kissing those pale wormy lips? Sansa leant against the handrail, overlooking the common room of the tavern and frowned a little. Joffrey had been asleep a long time now. Had the Hound done some permanent damage to him when he’d knocked him unconscious? A dark little voice whispered in her mind, _good._

She sipped from her goblet of spice laden red wine and considered the King’s hair. She’d done a good job she thought, lopping off just enough of those famous golden strands to make some parts of his head near bald, and leaving others jagged and ragged. She’d enjoyed shearing him, although Sandor had kept a close eye on the sharp blades as she’d done it. Well… she’d never promised not to hurt him!

Where was Sandor though? Once they’d sheared the King and dressed him in the foul smelling rags the two of them, now wearing their parchment masks, had carried him between them, laughing with the guards at the red gate about their drunken friend as his head sagged down onto his chest. Then Sandor had led them here, to this backwater tavern, and settled Joffrey into a wooden chair at an ale covered table, before leaving her to watch him from the balcony. He said he wouldn’t be long… but time was passing…

Sansa looked over the other patrons of the tavern through the eyes of her new bird skull mask. They were fully in the spirit of the Stranger’s Day it seemed. Their black clothes and masks were simpler and shabbier than those of the lords and ladies of court, but they were enjoying their anonymity to the full. Sansa had been regularly distracted from her watch of the King by one particular threesome for a while now… a cat’s skull mask had been playing with a very wonky dragon skull mask and a gimlet-eyed bear mask. The lady bear and the lady cat had been teasing the dragon, heating him up until his manhood pushed hard against his breeches, and now the two of them were working around their masks to lick and kiss each other in front of him. The curvy brunette cat wore a finer black dress than the bear, but the dragon wore patched and cracked leathers. 

Sansa watched as the cat pulled down the bear’s dress to reveal one large nipple which the cat licked as though it was cream. Sansa drank deeply, and shifted as she stood, rubbing her thighs together a little as the two played for their audiences.

And then there was a hardness pressing against her and she turned, her hand raised to slap whoever had moved behind her on the balcony. But the large man wearing the dog skull mask grasped her wrist before she could make contact. 

“You must have been distracted, girl, if you didn’t hear me approach… oh I see…” He looked down to the threesome and smiled beneath the mask. “Watching are you?”

“Where have you been?! I was worried!” 

“I had to do something…” He removed his mask quickly, displaying the livid bruise on his good eye, and the cut lip with a bead of blood still welling there. 

“Sandor!”

“Found some whoreson out with his woman and insulted her to his face. Now I can convince the King that we were both set upon. How is our sleeping charge?”

“He still hasn’t stirred… will he be okay?”

“Thick skull that one.” He replaced the mask. Then he moved closer, pinning her to the balcony, his hands beginning to roam over the plain material of the serving girl’s dress.

“Here?”

“Here… Tell me what you see.”

“The bear and the cat?”

“Aye.”

“The cat’s been licking and kissing at the the bear’s nipples, as the bear grasps the cat’s fine brown fur… now the bear is making her move backwards towards a table, bending her back over it. The bear’s raising her skirt…”

Sandor’s fingers were bunching her cotton skirts, pulling them up at the back.

“And the dragon… what’s he doing now?”

“Nothing, watching. I don’t think the cat really wants him. She’s purring now. The bear is licking her… honey.”

She felt his fingertips tracing lines up her thighs, circling the edges of her smallclothes, before he moved them aside and quickly pushed two fingers into her, sliding them easily through her wetness. She gasped at the way he stretched her and moved within her.

“The bear and the cat… are they as wet as you?”

“No… no. They can’t be!”

His other hand went to the front of her and worked its way into her bodice, rolling her nipple with a sharp little pain that made her moan. 

“The cat’s purring so greatly, I think the bear has moved fingers inside of her as she licks her.”

He increased his movements within her, brushing against the point of pleasure with a rough thumb and she pressed herself harder against the railings. She was so close to her peak, she gasped and covered his large hand on her breast with her own, moaning and quivering at his rapid touch.

“Sandor!” She breathed before the waves of her release claimed her, just as the cat shivered and shook herself on the tavern table. 

He gave up his hold on her and turned her face him, his dark eyes looking out from the snarling dog skull mask. She smiled and kissed him deeply. 

“You taste of wine, girl.” He smiled and then kissed his way around her ear, his rasping voice whispering to her. “And later I’d have you taste of me…”

They were interrupted then by the sound of wooden chair falling to the ground. They turned quickly back to their view of the common room, and a bewildered Joffrey, standing up in his ragged clothes and looking around in a panic.

“Guards! Hound! Where am I?”

A helpful patron laughed at him and raised a mug of beer in his direction, “Only the second worse tavern in Fleabottom!” The old man with the liver spots on his bald head and vomit dried in his beard, cackled. “It would be the worst, but the Gorgon’s Smile caught fire last week and took the title!”

“I am King Joffrey and I demand someone escort me back to the Red Keep. Immediately!” His voice quavered and shook as he shouted. There was a moment’s pause, and then all fell to laughing.

“And I’m the Imp!” Shouted a tall thin man with a whore in his hands.

“And I’m your bitch mother!” Shouted an old whore with yellow teeth.

“And I’m the dragon queen come from across the sea!” Shouted a swarthy sailor.

“And I’m the Lord of Casterly Rock!” Shouted the livered spotted bald man.

“No! No! I’m the King! I’m the King!” Joffrey squealed.

“No! I’m the King!!” Shouted a bandy legged woman.

“No! It’s me, I’m the King!” Spat a toothless hag.

“I was King before you, you cow!!”

Fear was changing the shape of Joffrey’s face, while bleaching the arrogance from it and paling it as white as the bone mask he’d worn before.

“No! No! Please… please… I’m the King!”

The cat skull mask settled her skirts, and drifted closer to him. He looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“I’ve seen the King” she hissed. “And he’s better looking than you!” She pushed him to the floor and stepped over him, her silks rustling over him as she left.

“If he’d ever got out of that litter he insists on travelling in all the bloody time, they might just recognise him…” Sandor muttered, before taking her hand. “Come little bird, I have a room paid for in a far better tavern… there’ll be good food, hot baths. My company… but you’ll just have to put up with that!”

“We can’t just leave him! Someone’ll decide he’s too irritating and stab him.”

“I paid the dragon mask and few others to keep an eye on him for an hour or so.” He lifted the purple velvet coin purse. “I think we’ve won this now, don’t you?”

She looked back down at Joffrey who was climbing back up from the straw, saw dust and ale on the floor, sobbing a little.

“You don’t understand, I’m the King… I’m the King.” He was shaking. “You have to help me get back to the Keep!” 

“Yes. Yes, I think we’ve won it now.” She walked with him out of the tavern, passing by Joffrey as he slumped on a chair, his ragged hair between his fingers as he held his head and muttered to himself.

***

Some hours later Sansa reluctantly put her serving girl dress back on and joined Sandor to make their way back towards the keep. They’d eaten their fill of a fine supper, bathed together in a steaming hot tub until their fingers were wrinkled and Sandor was hard. Then they’d played with each other in many, many ways until they were both satiated and sleepy. And now it was time to return to the normal order of things.

They found the King in an alley way not far from the Keep, watched over at a distance by his dragon, bull and shadow cat guardians. Somewhere along the line he’d lost his threadbare shoes, and something that might have been horse shit was smeared on his ashen face. His eyes were tightly closed and he was still muttering something about being King. But now he almost sounded as though he was trying to convince himself.

Sandor nodded to the men, and passed them more gold from the purse, before they disappeared off into the shadows. 

“Girl… can you make it back to the gate? It’s not far…” Sandor lifted her chin to look at her in her bird mask. “It’s time I removed this dog mask, and put the Hound one back on.” 

She smiled up at him and kissed him quickly on the lips.

“Every bloody year…” Sandor laughed deeply, bitterly. “Every bloody year he makes the same fucking stupid joke about me not wearing a mask. And he’s never known how wrong he is. But you see me, girl. Don’t you?”

“I see you, Sandor.”

“Good. Now, don’t you dare go back to running from the dog…” He pulled her close for a fierce kiss and she felt the breath escape from her. Then he gently pushed her off, tapping her on the arse with a large hand and smiling as he did. “Get home, girl. Now”

She looked back as she left, watching the Hound crouch down by the shaking boy. She could not hear what he said, but the relieved look on Joffrey’s face told her all that she needed to know.

And for the first time in her life, Sansa whispered a prayer of thanks to the Stranger as her feet ran lightly over the cobblestones towards the Keep, and as the moon looked down on drunks, and lords, and dogs and kings, alike.


End file.
